


we took the slow way

by dangerbears



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:11:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerbears/pseuds/dangerbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>liam and louis teach kindergarten and harry styles has a kid and zayn is a dj and it's all very complicated for various reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we took the slow way

Louis stumbles out of his bedroom at 6:30 in the morning. He’s wearing khakis and a button-up shirt and a skinny tie and he’s pretty sure he looks fantastic. 

Zayn’s inexplicably sprawled on the couch watching early morning cartoons as Louis walks to the kitchen. 

“You’re up early,” Louis comments. 

Zayn arches his neck back to see Louis. “Haven’t actually gone to bed yet. Come here, let me look at you.”

Louis rolls his eyes and smiles a little, but comes over and stands in front of the television. Zayn’s eyes roam over his body appraisingly. He nods shortly, then some sort of realisation dawns on his face. 

“Are you and Liam having another competition about how many moms hit on you?” Zayn says. 

Louis gives him an appalled look. “Zayn Malik! That would be _entirely inappropriate_!”

Zayn’s looking distinctly unimpressed. “Liam’s going to win.”

“What? No, he’s not. Impossible. I am _dashing_. How could you say that?”

Zayn shrugs. “He’s hotter.”

“Impossible,” Louis says again. “You’re just trying to wound me now.”

“You also give off a distinct vibe, dude,” Zayn says. 

Louis brightens. “Yes! I know. A dashing and handsome and rugged and sexy vibe.”

“I was thinking more of a _gentleman of the back door_ kind of vibe.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You desperately need some sensitivity training,” he says, as he starts again for the kitchen. 

“Yeah,” Zayn calls after him. “You know me, always just hating on the gays.”

“It’s despicable and I feel unsafe around you!” Louis pours himself coffee and a bowl of cheerios. When did he become a grown-up? He’s pretty sure he’s not a grown-up. He’s pretty sure he hangs out with five and six year olds all day. He’s pretty sure he’s basically one of them. 

Becoming a kindergarten teacher was never a _goal_ of Louis’s. It just kind of happened. Things always just kind of happen. It kind of _happened_ that after three years of an English degree at the University of Manchester, Louis stumbled onto an application to the University of Washington’s early childhood development program, and it just kind of happened that he qualified for some scholarships, and it just kind of happened that his mum approved, and it just kind of happened that he met some California stoner named Zayn, and it just kind of happened that they moved in with each other. 

So, now he’s a kindergarten teacher at this intensely upper-class, intensely private elementary-middle school in Seattle and he’s wearing khakis daily and going to bed at a reasonable time and only drinking on weekends. He wakes up at 6 o’clock in the morning and he has cheerios for breakfast and he keeps up to date on current events and he shaves regularly. He drives a Toyota Corolla and he has more than twenty dollars in his checking account and it’s all very strange and foreign. He has no idea how he ended up here. The last five years were kind of a blur and when he thinks of all his mates back in Doncaster, working in the factories and the distribution centres, he cringes. Louis gets paid to hang out with five and six year olds all day. He kind of loves it. 

“Zayn?” Louis says, loud enough to be heard over the television. 

Zayn jerks a little, grunts. “What.”

“Am I boring?” he asks, swirling his spoon in his cheerios. They aren’t even honey-nut cheerios. Just boring, extra-fibre, low cholesterol cheerios. 

“The boringest,” Zayn says. “The absolute most boring of all the borings. You might as well kill yourself. You used to be fun.”

“I’m still fun!” Louis protests. 

Zayn turns on the couch around to stare at Louis, sitting at the counter. “You didn’t come out last Friday because you wanted to _finish your book_ , dude.”

Louis pulls a face. “We can’t all be DJs.”

Zayn snorts. “You will not believe the looks I get when I tell people my roommate’s a kindergarten teacher.”

Louis laughs a little. “Yeah, well, telling people I live with the DJ at the Crocodile helps my street cred, so thanks for that,” he says.

Zayn looks at him suspiciously. “Why the fuck do you need _street cred_? Who on earth are you telling that to? The housewives who drop their bundles of joy off every day?”

“No, christ, I might get fired for that.” Louis stands and pours the rest of his milk into the sink. 

Zayn flips off the TV, stands and stretches. “I should probably crash. It’s the first day today, yeah?”

Louis nods and ducks his head into the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror. “September first, how idyllic.”

“Well, good luck. Talk slowly so the babies can understand you. Don’t cry when Liam screws all the hot moms.”

Louis scoffs. “Liam is about as likely to pull any mom as I am. He just looks straighter. Bastard.”

“Yeah, whatever. Slip him my number, would you?” Zayn smacks Louis on the arse as he walks by, heading to his bedroom. 

“Not in one million years,” Louis says after him. “He’s too good for you. You’ll corrupt him.”

“Speaking of corruption, shouldn’t you be leaving?”

It’s 7:15. “Shit, yeah, see you, mate.” Louis grabs his bag and keys and heads out to his alarmingly sensible car that will take him to his alarmingly sensible job. 

*

Liam sticks his head in Louis’s classroom as he’s setting out nametags on the desks. There’s always a sort of nervous excitement surrounding the first week of school – all the new faces and new school supplies and new personalities and new friends and Louis really loves to watch it all happen; Louis loves to be a part of it. 

“Hey, did you check your roster, Lou?” Liam says.

Louis looks over at him with an eyebrow quirked. “No, I haven’t. I’m actually _entirely incompetent_ , are you just now realising this?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Look at the last names. Particularly the S’s. Then think back to whatever teenybop posters you had on your bedroom wall when you were fifteen.”

Louis goes over to his desks and pulls out the sheet with the list of all his students. He looks down to the S’s. “Hang on,” he says slowly. He glances up at Liam. 

Liam’s nodding, with a smirk on his face. 

“ _Styles_?” Louis says. “As in...” 

Liam’s still nodding. “You’re such a lucky fucking bastard.”

Louis is still staring at him blankly. “Are you telling me I have _Harry Styles’_ son in my class?”

“Maybe we should extend this competition to the dads as well, yeah?” Liam says. 

Louis snorts. “I think _that_ might get us in trouble.”

Liam laughs. “Probably, yeah.”

“Fuck, Li.” Louis is laughing a little at himself. “I had such a massive crush on Harry Styles when I was a teenager. Like, he was _it_ , you know? How cliche is that, right? Realising you’re gay through an _X-Factor_ finalist?”

Smiling fondly, Liam says, “Well, hopefully this won’t ruin all your memories. I’m sure he’s a nice guy. What’s he been doing lately? The pop career kind of fizzled when he turned twenty or so, didn’t it?”

Louis shrugs. “Apparently he’s been up to _something_. Got a kid out of it and everything.”

“Well, he’s only twenty fiveish, right? Wear tighter pants, man. He was a _popstar_ , I’m sure he swings both ways.”

Louis laughs. “God, you and Zayn are just full of stereotypes this morning.”

“Zayn? What’d Zayn say?” Liam goes a little red. 

Louis smirks. “Something about how you look straighter and more manly and handsome than I do. He’s clearly blind, anyway.”

Liam’s full-on blushing now. “He thinks I’m straight?”

Laughing, Louis shakes his head. “I’m not getting in the middle of this. Get out, kids are gonna be piling in here in a few minutes.”

“Wait!” Liam protests. “Make sure he knows I’m not straight!” 

“Get _out_ , Payne. Go flirt with mums.”

Five minutes after Liam goes to his own classroom, and ten minutes before the first bell is due to ring, there’s a tentative knock on Louis’s door. Louis looks up from the whiteboard where he’s meticulously writing a greeting full of exclamation points, to see two nervous faces peering at him from the doorway – one about three feet off the ground and pale and the other about six feet off the ground and entirely fucking recognisable. 

Louis sets down the marker and says, “Hello! Welcome! I’m Mr. Tomlinson!” He squats down to be at the boy’s level. “You must be Jakob,” he says. 

The boy smiles shyly and nods before turning his face into his dad’s hip. Louis glances up to see Harry – _Harry Styles_ – smiling down at Jakob ruefully.

“Jake, why don’t you go try to find your seat, hm? I bet it has your name on it.” Harry nudges Jakob a little with his thigh and Jakob hesitantly steps away from his dad’s body and towards the desk, shooting a nervous look at Louis. Louis smiles at him encouragingly. “If you need any help, let me know,” he says.

Straightening up, Louis extends his hand to Harry. “Hi. Louis Tomlinson,” he says, trying so hard not to regress to whatever pathetic teenage behaviour is threatening to come out. He might explode into a burst of rainbow flames, honestly. This is so fucking surreal. 

Harry looks at him curiously. “Harry Styles. Can I ask – where are you from?”

Louis glances at the ground and then up at Harry through his eyelashes. “Yorkshire. I probably shouldn’t try to pretend I wasn’t obsessed with you when I was a kid, right?”

Harry blushes a little, but laughs. “I mean, you _could_. Yorkshire, huh. You’re a long way from home.”

Louis shrugs. “So are you.”

Harry nods and gives Louis another look, before running his hand through his fringe. “So, I’m sorry we’re early. I’ve got a meeting and I wanted to meet you before having to rush off. He’s a good kid, a little shy, but he’ll be fine. You’ll be fine, won’t you, Jake?” he calls over to his son, who is unpacking his folders and pencils into his desk very diligently, lower lip pulled into his mouth. He looks up at Harry’s voice. 

“Yeah, Dad. Won’t set anything on fire,” he says monotonously, as if reciting something he’s heard a million times. 

Harry laughs kind of proudly and Louis tries not to laugh as well. “Alright, champ, your mum’s going to pick you up, okay? I’ll see you later. I love you. Be good, have fun, don’t cause trouble,” he says. 

Harry waves goodbye and blows a kiss to Jakob, before shaking Louis’s hand again and giving him a little smile. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, Louis Tomlinson from Yorkshire,” he says with a wink. 

Louis valiantly succeeds at not choking on his tongue and gives Harry a slightly manic grin. “Would assume so, Harry Styles from TigerBeat magazine.”

Harry bursts into a loud shout of laughter and promptly looks shocked at himself. He shakes his head at Louis and backs out of the classroom. 

It’s not that Louis is pleased, it’s more that he’s _completely fucking ecstatic_. 

*

The day goes as smoothly as any first day ever does. There are a few tears, a few breakdowns, but nothing Louis can’t smooth over with some jokes and gentle reassurance. 

At lunch, Louis meets up with Liam in the teachers' lounge. 

“So,” Louis says.

Liam looks amused. “So,” he says.

Louis glances around the room to make sure no one else is listening and then slumps his shoulders, giving Liam the beaming grin he’s been keeping in for four hours. “He’s _lovely_.”

Liam laughs. “Oh my god, you look like you’re twelve.”

“I _feel_ like it, mate! God, he was just, like, gorgeous. Only more grown up and legal and handsome and, god. I think he’s married? But I can still look. Oh my god. He was wearing these skinny jeans and this loose-neck teeshirt and this peacoat and hightops and oh my _god_ , Liam, I’m twelve.” Louis buries his face in his hands. 

Liam reaches over and pats his knee. “You’re so cute.”

Sitting up straighter, Louis shakes himself. “I need to, like, get ahold of myself if I’m going to see him every day. He winked at me, did I tell you that? Oh my god.”

“ _Louis_ ,” Liam laughs. “What are you going to do?”

Louis looks at him blankly. “What do you mean? Nothing! He’s married? He’s a parent? I’m just going to get some sparkly pens to go with my sparkly diary and dot my i’s with hearts. Perfectly sane, normal things for a twenty seven year old man.”

Liam shrugs. “He might not be married. You could test the water!”

“Liam,” Louis says, leveling him a look. “If the tables were turned here, and I was telling _you_ to hit on a parent, what would you say?”

Liam considers this. “Alright. Fair point. So what’s your tally so far?”

Louis smiles down at his sandwich. “Seven. You?”

Liam makes a frustrated noise. “Three. So many _dads_ this morning. With wedding rings.”

“Tough luck, mate.”

“If you were wearing your suspenders, I’m sure you’d have less.” Liam takes a bite of his bagel and gets cream cheese on his chin. Louis smirks. 

“Are you saying I’m less sexy in braces? Because I can list plenty of people who would beg to differ.” 

Liam smiles. “Never. Just saying it might send a different sort of message.”

“You’re awful.” Louis glances at the clock. “We have to go in a minute. Storytime next! Been practicing my monster voice all summer.”

Liam shakes his head. “You’re going to get so many nightmare complaints.”

*

Zayn’s sprawled out on the couch again when Louis gets home at 4:30. He’s staring rather blankly at the television, which is on the ABC Family channel. Full House is blaring, inexplicably. The living room smells like weed.

“You’re a sad excuse for a man,” Louis says, standing above him. 

Zayn’s eyes flicker over to Louis. “How’d it go? You swear in front of the babies? Kill any of them?”

Louis plops down next to Zayn and pulls his legs up underneath him. “It was fine. I have _Harry Styles’_ son in my class, though.”

Zayn arches an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to mean anything to me?”

“Harry Styles!” Louis repeats, shocked. “Was he not a big deal over here? Liam knew of him and Liam’s from _Vermont_!”

“Well, Liam’s weird,” Zayn says kind of fondly. “Who’s this guy, then?”

“He came in second on X-Factor when he was just a kid, right? And he was so adorable and cute and then he became this massive popstar in the UK for awhile, I don’t know. He made me gay.” Louis sighs dramatically.

Zayn lets out a sharp laugh. “Oh, so _he’s_ who we’re to thank, then? Not your spectacular genes or whatever?”

Louis smiles over at him. “Well, maybe partially that.”

“So, anyway, what about this guy?”

“His son’s in my class! It’s like. So unbelievable? I met teenage-me’s idol today? And I managed to, like, actually stay in control of myself? I’m shell-shocked, mate.” Louis leans over and puts his head on Zayn’s thigh, wordlessly asking for petting. Zayn obliges. 

“Are you, like, okay?” Zayn asks. “Should I be worried about your mental state or anything?”

Louis sighs. “No, no. He’s just gorgeous and perfect and everything I’ve ever wanted. But I’ll live. His probable-wife is some skinny, blonde, hipster thing, I don’t know. Pretty. God, I haven’t been laid in so long, Zayn.”

Zayn chuckles a little, winding his hand through Louis’s fringe. “Are you asking or telling?”

“Depends what the answer is,” Louis says, smiling up at him. 

Zayn rolls his eyes and leans down to press a kiss to Louis’s lips. “As if you don’t know.”

Louis reaches up into Zayn’s hair, guiding their mouths together clumsily, before pulling back to say, “Wait. Let’s go to my bedroom. Can’t do this in front of Mary-Kate and Ashley.”

Zayn groans but pushes himself off the couch. “You’re such a _teacher_ , dude.”

*

The next day, Louis puts on slightly tighter trousers, a slightly tighter shirt, and braces. Zayn whistles at him from Louis’s bed as Louis gets dressed. 

“Thought you weren’t supposed to go after dads?” Zayn says. 

Louis cuts him a sharp look. “I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zayn snorts. “Uh huh.” 

They’re quiet for awhile as Louis does his hair, and then Zayn says softly, “Seriously, Lou, you look good. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Louis glances at him in the mirror, naked but for the sheet over his hips. “I’m not doing anything. I just. I’m not going to do anything, really. I just want to feel good about myself, at least, alright?”

Zayn closes his eyes and shakes his head a little, smiling to himself. “You’re so crazy, babe. Have a good day.”

Louis doesn’t kiss Zayn goodbye, because that’s not something they do, but he gives him a fond look and reminds him to empty the dishwasher. Louis goes to the kitchen and eats a sensible breakfast and gets in his sensible car and goes to his sensible job. 

He sticks his head into Liam’s classroom as he arrives, cocking his hip in the doorway. Liam takes one look at him and bursts out laughing. 

“I’ll be pulling ahead in the mom tally today, dude, but you might get some experimental dads,” he says. 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Still not part of the game.”

“No,” Liam agrees. “Plus, you’re only after one dad.”

“I’m not after anyone!” Louis protests. “I just wanted to look presentable, is that such a crime?”

Liam smirks. “You do have trouble with that.”

Louis gives Liam a quick roll of his eyes and a smile and goes back to his own classroom. His room faces the morning sun and gives the entire space a sort of glow he associates with children's movies about coming of age and, like, boys and their dogs. The hardwood floor shines with the summer break from dirty sneakers and spilled juice and Louis sits behind his desk and smiles. He's got a stack of new picture books and he's going to try to teach kids to read some words today. This is the kind of thing that sticks with him; he loves to play with kids, and he's ace at pretending he's a dinosaur or a lava monster, but the little things – the things he gets to teach kids that build foundations for the rest of their lives, is what keeps him motivated here. Louis doesn't remember who taught him how to tie his shoes, but someone did. Louis doesn't remember who taught him what sound the letter B makes, but someone did, and that someone shaped his entire education, just by teaching him the alphabet. For nine months out of the year, for twenty three kids, Louis gets to be that person. They might not remember him in twenty years, but he's making an impact. 

The sound of two little feet dashing into his door, makes Louis look up from the worksheets he's sorting. 

"Hi, Mr. Tomlinson!" Jakob Styles says breathlessly, running over to his little desk and sort of cowering behind it. 

"Hey, Jake," Louis says, smiling. "Let's remember to walk inside, okay?" 

Jakob nods at him, wide-eyed, before his eyes go back to the door immediately. 

Suddenly, there are massive roars coming from the hallway – dinosaur roars, if Louis isn't horribly mistaken – and Jakob bursts into nervous giggles, twitching and huddling even further under his desk. 

"Don't tell him I'm in here!" he whispers to Louis. 

Louis winks at him. "If he eats me first, I'm gonna be upset!"

And then, suddenly, Harry Styles is filling up his doorway, body puffed up with his dinosaur-persona. He looks around the room and, finding it deceptively empty, looks at Louis. Harry immediately drops his arms and flushes bright red. 

"Um. Good morning," Harry says, shoving his hands in his pockets and feigning nonchalance. He leans against the doorjam and whistles a little bit.

Louis raises his eyebrows in massive amusement. "Good morning."

"Haven't seen a little terror running around, have you?" Harry's eyes are twinkling and he is clearly trying very hard to resist looking over at the squirming boy hiding under his desk. 

Louis shrugs and gives Harry his most innocent look. "I'm all alone, mate. Dunno what to tell you."

Harry quirks an eyebrow and says, "Are you, now," but quickly purses his lips and shouts, "Ah! I've found you!" and dinosaur-stomps over to where Jakob's laughing madly into his hands. 

"Don't eat me, Daddy, I'm too skinny! Eat Mr. Tomlinson instead!" 

"Oi!" Louis exclaims, before bursting into laughter himself. 

Harry grabs Jakob under his arms and swings him into the air before giving him a quick kiss on the head and plopping him back into his chair. "I love you, buddy, I'll see you this afternoon, yeah? Be good."

"Bye, Daddy!" Jakob calls after him. 

Harry gives Louis a wink and a nod as he passes by Louis's desk. "Probably would rather eat you, anyway," he says quietly through a grin. 

Louis stares after him with his mouth open, any sort of comeback evaporating before formation. Which is maybe for the best, because there's a _child present_. Christ.

*

As all the kindergarten classes are lining up by the parking lot for pickup, Louis grabs Liam's arm and whispers urgently, "I've got to talk to you."

Liam gives him a look that's half amusement and half exasperation. "Give me a ride home?"

Louis rolls his eyes, sees the manipulation tactic for what it is – Liam lives way across the city – but he nods anyway and starts checking off his kids as their parents pull up in their Lexus hybrids or what the fuck ever. 

Jakob's the last one left and he sits quietly next to Louis as they wait in the nearly-deserted parking lot. 

Louis nudges Jakob with his elbow. "You liking school so far?" he asks. 

Jakob nods. "I like recess. We get candy if we kick a homerun in kickball! Dylan and Thomas always let me kick homeruns because they know I like candy a lot."

Louis laughs. "Anything else you like?"

Tilting his head as if considering this, Jakob nods. "Lunch," he says, firmly. 

Louis chuckles ruefully. "A boy after my own heart," he says. "Do you have a favourite sport to play?"

"Baseball!" Jakob yells. "I love baseball. My grandpa always takes me to Mariners games and he bought me my own glove for my fifth birthday this year! It's so cool, it smells like real baseball things and I can fit it on my head like a hat!" 

Louis leans down and whispers close to Jakob. "D'you wanna hear a secret?"

Jakob nods furiously. 

"I don't understand baseball at all," Louis continues. "Never been able to get it."

Jakob sighs, all five year old frustration. "Neither does my daddy. He only wants to watch soccer. All day! He just sits and watches _boring_ soccer! And he gets all mad about it and won't play video games with me if the red team loses."

Louis bites back a smile. "See, I think your daddy and I would get along."

Jakob looks up, then, and scans the parking lot. "There he is!" He jumps up and takes off running, leaving his backpack on the bench next to Louis. Louis picks it up and walks hesitantly over to where Harry has grabbed his son mid-sprint and is now swinging him around in wide circles. 

"Did you have a good day, buddy?" Louis hears Harry ask. 

"Yeah! I kicked two homeruns at recess and I got _two pieces of candy_! I gave one to Laura though," Jakob tells Harry excitedly. 

Harry raises his eyebrows and glances up at Louis. "Laura, huh? Did she like it?"

Jakob blushes and shrugs, kicking at the blacktop with his toe. "I dunno. She's pretty."

Harry laughs and musses up Jakob's hair. "Go get in the car, kid. I'm just gonna say hi to Mr. Tomlinson." 

Harry walks over to Louis and takes Jakob's backpack from him. "Are you teaching my kid to pick up birds?" he asks, teasingly. 

Louis laughs. "Really doubt he'd get that from me, mate," he says. Harry's quiet for a moment and Louis looks up at him, kind of nervously. "I mean," he starts again, but doesn't really know where to go from there. 

Harry's smiling, and he shakes his head. "I'm sort of relieved," he says, and _okay_ , Louis doesn't know what that's supposed to mean. "Anyway," Harry goes on, "I'm really sorry I'm late. I got caught up in some work stuff and Kristin's busy today. Hopefully this won't be a regular thing."

Louis waves off the apology. "No worries. Jake and I got to know each other a little bit. Big baseball fan, eh?"

Harry rolls his eyes. "It breaks my heart, really. I do everything I can to get him to appreciate some footie and he'd rather watch old fat guys stand around and only hit a ball a third of the time. On a good day!"

Louis laughs. "My roommate's the same way, only with American football. Did you know the ball's only in play for _ten minutes_ of a three hour game? Who the hell wants to watch that?" 

Harry shakes his head. "This country, mate, I'm just not sure. Hey, we should catch a match sometime. Be nice to watch with someone who's over the age of six and not whining the entire time."

"Well, I can guarantee I'm over six, but the whining part really depends on who you want to watch," Louis says. 

Harry bites his lip. "Liverpool versus Man United's coming up in two weeks. Regardless of who you support, that'll be a good one."

Louis quirks his eyebrow. "Let's be real, it'll only be good for the United supporters," he says. "But I'm a huge United supporter, so let's do it."

Harry grins at him. "Check the attitude at the door, mate. It's Liverpool's year, I can feel it."

Louis pulls a face. "Take your kid and your awful taste home."

Harry laughs. "Have a good afternoon, Louis. We'll see you tomorrow morning."

Louis waves goodbye to Jakob in the car and turns back to the school. He goes straight to Liam's classroom. 

"Li, I've accidentally got a major problem," he groans. 

Liam looks up from his papers. "I could have told you that as soon as I saw the name, Lou."

"Wanna come over for drinks with me and Zayn?" Louis says, putting on his most pathetic expression. 

Liam looks skeptical. "It's Tuesday."

"But I'm having a _crisis_!" Louis whines. 

"Fine," Liam says. "Zayn will be there?"

Louis shoots Liam a dark look. "I'm not feeling your sympathy, mate."

Liam smiles. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, just gotta grab my bag. Meet me at the car, I'll be out in a minute."

*

"Zayn!" Louis yells as he unlocks the door to their flat. "Zayn, I've brought you a present!"

"Louis!" Liam hisses from behind him. Louis grins. 

"Wha'?" Zayn says, stumbling out of his bedroom, wearing pajama pants and not much else. He freezes as he looks up at Louis and Liam.

Louis can _feel_ the blushes radiating from either side of him. 

"Drinks?" he says. 

Zayn blinks a bit and focuses on Louis. "It's Tuesday?"

"I may be boring, Zayn, but I'm not _dead_ ," Louis says. 

Liam jumps in. "Louis is accidentally in love."

Zayn nods slowly. "Oh yes, the popstar. I forgot."

Louis trudges into the kitchen and digs around for some vodka and tonic water. "He wants to watch football together," he says. 

Zayn and Liam have matching confused expressions. "Someone willingly wants to watch the Seahawks this season?" Liam asks. 

Louis rolls his eyes. " _Soccer_ , whatever, I need better friends."

Liam narrows his eyes. "He asked you to watch soccer with him? Are you going to?"

Louis measures out shots into three glasses and dumps some tonic over them, then turns around and hands them to Liam and Zayn. "Yes? I think so? I mean, that's not necessarily dangerous, right? We could just go to a pub downtown or something."

Zayn takes a pull of his drink and makes a considering noise. "Does he know you're gay?"

"Um." Louis blushes. "I maybe dropped some pretty massive hints." 

Zayn laughs. "You're so typical."

Liam shakes his head. "Be careful, Lou."

"He's married! If we could all remember this, that'd help me out a lot." 

"Does he wear a wedding ring?" Zayn asks. 

"No," Louis says, moving to the living room. Liam and Zayn follow him. "But a lot of couples don't these days? Or they, like, wear them on necklaces or something, I don't know. We're going to assume he's married so I don't lose my fucking mind, yeah?" He sits on the armchair next to the couch and pulls his legs underneath him. Liam hesitantly sits on the couch and Zayn plops down beside him, a little closer than is strictly necessary. Liam looks incredibly tense, Louis notices. 

"What if he makes a move anyway?" Zayn says.

Liam's eyebrows raise and he looks at Louis. 

Louis stares at both of them. "Can we not do this? I'm not going to sleep with anyone who's married or probably married and he's a _parent_ , okay."

Zayn smiles evilly. "He's not _your_ parent, though, and that's the only thing that would stop the Louis Tomlinson I used to know."

Liam chokes. "Good to know you had boundaries, I guess."

Louis shakes his head and takes a long drink. "I hate you both. Let's talk about all the sexual tension in this room instead, how about?"

Zayn raises an eyebrow and says nothing, but Liam looks down into his glass. "Let's not and said we did," he says. 

Louis bites his lip and sends a silent _sorry_ to Zayn, who looks a little hurt, but shakes it off pretty quickly. He reaches for the remote and says, "I think there's a game on."

Louis groans. The Mariners are playing Oakland and he fucking hates baseball. 

*

Harry and Jakob arrive early again the next day. Louis glances up from his desk as they walk in and arches an eyebrow. "Should I just start class fifteen minutes early?"

Harry chuckles. "Hey, I'm just trying to keep you on your toes. Make you feel younger, you know."

"You mean by incessantly reminding me of how pathetic I was ten years ago?" Louis says with a smile. 

Shrugging, Harry just grins. "So, hey, give me your number. I was serious about the football. Haven't got any mates from the homeland around here." 

Louis looks down at his hands, stalling for time. "How did you end up here, anyway? I mean, Seattle of all places? Really?"

Harry glances back to Jakob, who's got out some little action figures and arranging them in a battle formation. "All of Jake's family is around here, and I don't wanna mess with that. I like it. Gets a bit lonely, but I manage. Have to travel for work anyway, and it's nice to be able to come home to a kid and all. What about you, though? You're a mystery."

Louis laughs lightly. "I'm really not. Went to uni in Manchester, got into teaching over there, and an advisor told me about the University of Washington's early childhood program, so I applied and somehow it all worked out. I can't even pretend to understand it, really. But here I am." 

Harry nods. "Here you are," he repeats. "So, about that phone number..." 

Louis tries to hide his cringe. "I – okay. I'm pretty sure I'm really not supposed to do this, but I do want to see your face when United smash the Scousers this weekend." He pulls out a scrap piece of paper and scribbles down his number, quickly. 

Harry takes it from him with a wink. "I won't tell anyone." 

Louis shakes his head and gives Harry a small smile. Other kids are starting to show up and the room is steadily getting louder and louder. Harry gives him another wink and backs away from Louis's desk. "I'll text you," he says to Louis, and turns to leave. 

*

Zayn’s not at the flat when Louis gets home from school. Louis takes the prime opportunity to turn the television to Fox Soccer Channel and curl up on the couch in front of Sky Sports News. Robin Van Persie’s will-he-won’t-he drama unfolds and Louis leans back and closes his eyes. 

Louis has never regretted the decisions he’s made. He loves his job and he loves his friends and he loves Seattle and he loves the States and he’s generally content. There’s not one thing he’d change about his life, really. He’d love his mum and sisters to be closer, but, well. Sacrifices were made, and Louis tries to fly home when he has enough time and money. He’s fine. 

It’s just, like. 

He’s just _lonely_ , is the thing. And it’s not like he’s _alone_ – he has Zayn. He loves Zayn. He’s loved Zayn since Zayn approached him on red square outside Suzzallo Library, stoned out of his mind, complimenting Louis’s shoes. There had been a playful tilt to Zayn’s head, one Louis recognised whenever he hesitantly complimented another man, and Louis had smiled immediately. They got lunch, they went to the Henry Art Gallery across campus, and they immediately became good friends. Who occasionally fucked. 

What’s never made sense to Louis is how it never became a _thing_ between them. It wasn’t unspoken and it wasn’t awkward and it wasn’t serious and there was nothing but overwhelming love between them. No jealousy, no need for the _relationship_ talk, and no need for even a friends-with-benefits talk. They just fit in a way that they never questioned. When they were alone together, they sometimes had a drink, they sometimes got high, they sometimes watched a movie, they sometimes had sex. And up until Louis had gained the stability of his current job, Zayn was the only constant in his life. He relied on Zayn for comfort, and Zayn provided that any way he could, in any way Louis needed. 

But they never fell in love. And that surprises Louis, too. He loves Zayn more than anyone, honestly, in such a familial and adoring and unconditional way that it makes him a little uncomfortable – they sometimes joke that they might be brothers, and immediately pull faces and scoot apart, only to bounce right back into each other like rubber bands. But there’s never been an _in love_ feeling, there’s never been anything Louis could point to and say, hey, look, we belong together. He slept with Zayn sometimes, he loved Zayn all of the time, and they were both just biding their time. 

Liam was an anomaly to Louis. He was Louis’s welcome wagon on his first day at the Bush School, and when Louis met him, there was an such an intensity about him, such a serious demeanour, that Louis was put off. He thought, _well, this guy is going to hate me once he gets to know me_. But it didn’t work quite that way – Liam had this shy little smile that started coming out two hours after Louis cracked his first joke, and slowly, slowly, slowly, over the course of two years, expanded to stretch across his face. He laughingly agreed to be dragged along to bars on Fridays for Happy Hour and he laughingly agreed to come to Zayn’s first show at the Crocodile – _my roommate’s so nervous, it’s so cute, you have to come, we’ll be his only fans_ – and then he not-so-laughingly met Zayn and. 

Well, that’s about it. He met Zayn and got shy again and Louis worried they’d hate each other and Zayn looked at Liam with wide eyes and talked with a stutter for the rest of the night and smoked an entire pack of Marb Lites and Louis worried, because, like. If Zayn doesn’t like someone, Louis doesn’t need them in his life. And Louis liked Liam. He confronted Zayn about it, after a few weeks, and that turned into Louis grappling Zayn into a headlock until he choked out, “God, I don’t know, he’s so fucking _cute_ ,” and that was that. Louis could keep Liam around. 

The couch that Louis is slumped into vibrates, suddenly, and Louis’s eyes fly open. He gropes for his pocket, only to find it empty, so he digs his fingers into the cracks between the cushions, coming up with at least enough change for a bus fair, Zayn’s medical marijuana license, a travel pipe, and several condom wrappers. 

Louis pulls a face. They seem to be perpetual college students, regardless of their ages. 

Eventually his phone turns up. He has a missed text from an unrecognised number. His stomach clenches because his stomach is stupid and presumptive. Louis frowns down at it, then hits ‘accept’ on his phone. 

_louis from Yorkshire! its harry from tigerbeat. if the mancs get van persie i might cry_.

Louis smiles and types out, _figured you'd be happy he's leaving the gunners, actually_.

Not ten seconds later, Louis's phone is vibrating again, but this time with a phone call.

"Hello?" he says. 

"I'd be happier if he fucked off to Germany," Harry says with a grin in his voice. 

Louis laughs a little. "Did you hear they're getting Cazorla? Arsene actually made a bloody move for once. Shocked, honestly."

Harry groans. "I don't want to talk about this, I get upset."

"Fair enough." Louis stares at the TV without taking anything in. "Are you so bored on a Wednesday night that you called your son's _teacher_? The life of a popstar really is not what I've imagined."

Harry huffs out a small laugh. "I'm in my jimjams eating toast at seven in the evening, mate. Glamourous life, like."

"Don't you have a child to take care of, Harry Styles? Am I going to have to worry about the poor boy's home life?" Louis says teasingly. 

"He _should_ be tied up outside. Actually I should check on him, the leash sometimes comes undone." Harry's chewing his toast across the connection. Louis makes a face. Harry continues after swallowing, "Nah, though, Kristin took him out for dinner. I've had a long week and whinged till I got some pity."

Louis hums a little in his throat, for lack of anything to say. "I met Kristin the other day. Very lovely." God, that was inane and obvious. Louis hates himself, a little. 

"Yeah," Harry says, crunching into another bite of toast. "Yeah, she's great. Got lucky there."

"Yeah," Louis says faintly. He bites his lip. "Hey, look, my flatmate just got home, so I should go, but let me know about the match, yeah? Sounds fun."

"Will do, mate. Have a nice night and all." Harry hangs up first. 

Louis sits on the couch in his empty flat and stares at the television.

*

Louis spends the week jittery with nerves, unable to reconcile the apparent _innocence_ of hanging out with Harry with his own undeniable attraction to him, and on top of Zayn and Liam's teasing, by the time Sunday comes, he's a veritable wreck. 

The match is at two o'clock in the afternoon UK time, and Louis somehow manages to make it to Harry's gorgeous house on the water by six in the morning. 

"I hope you realise," Louis says, after Harry pulls his front door open, "that you've made me wake up earlier than I do on a weekday."

Harry smirks and motions Louis inside. "Ah, yes, but what amazing company you have at this awful hour, yeah?"

Louis arches an eyebrow. "I dunno, mate. I've spent time around Liverpool fans in the past and it's never been pleasant."

"You, my friend," Harry says, leading Louis to a room which seems to have the sole purpose of housing the _biggest television Louis has ever seen_ , "are severely underestimating the sheer level of horrible you Mancs exude."

Louis furrows his brow as he settles into the squishy leather couch opposite the TV. "I..." he starts, frowning. "Fuck, it's way too early for this. We're gonna win and you're gonna cry and Michael Owen is going to score seventeen goals on the Kop End."

Harry snorts. "I'd like to see him try. Seeing as he plays for Stoke now."

"Oh. Shit, you're right," Louis says. "Big loss for all. Rooney, then. He's an Everton boy." 

By halftime, Louis's head has found its way onto Harry's shoulder and Harry's arm is casually slung over the back of the couch, framing Louis's body. Louis shifts a little, making a small noise. 

"Jesus, what's this couch made of? Sinking sand?" he grumbles, punching a little at Harry's tricep, as if to fluff it up like a pillow.

Harry laughs a little, jostling Louis's head. "Feels a bit like it, innit. I wind up sleeping down here more nights than not."

Louis swallows and shoves that thought out of his mind. The match is even at 0-0 at the half, with United threatening and Liverpool just barely holding on. 

"You lot are pathetic," Louis mumbles. 

Harry exhales sharply. "I know."

"I mean, really, really pathetic," Louis says.

"I _know_ ," Harry says. "I don't want to talk about it."

They stare at the FSC pundits who know fuck-all about football for a few quiet seconds, before Louis pulls himself up to sit straighter, cracking his back. He glances at his phone and sees it's almost seven in the morning. 

"Where's Jake?" he asks. "My experience with five year olds is that by seven, they're either dead or they're awake."

Harry grins, shaking his head and laughing a little. "You're not wrong there, but now I'm worried about your experience with dead five year olds? But Kristin's got him for the weekend. We don't really have a set schedule."

Louis's mouth goes dry. "I – oh. Um. You're not married?"

Harry leans back slightly and turns to look fully at Louis. "No," he says slowly. "We're not."

"Right." Louis nods and stares straight ahead, watching the swirling graphics flit across the screen. 

"Um. Is that... okay?" Harry asks, confused. 

Louis blinks rapidly before pasting on a smile and glancing at Harry. "Of course! Why would I care? It's great you guys seem to have such a drama-free arrangement."

"Yeah," Harry says back, still sounding slightly bemused. "Yeah, I mean. We were both so young and it was never meant to – I mean, you know? I, um, didn't even really remember her until she called me up two months later, you know? So, yeah, I mean, it really worked out for the best."

Louis allows himself a smirk and a quick slap to Harry's knee. "I sincerely hope that's not the story you've told Jake, mate. Class as hell, that is."

Harry lets out a barking laugh. "Shut up. My life was sincerely weird for awhile."

Louis nods. "I believe it. You made _my_ life sincerely weird, I tell you what."

"Oh?" Harry asks, curious. 

And, wow, that _really_ wasn't where Louis meant to steer this conversation. He blames it on the hour and the dizzy, sort of punch-drunk haze of _he's not married_ Louis is currently floating through. Shit.

"Oh," Louis says, laughing, and embarrassed as fuck. "I mean. Um? This might have just gotten really awkward."

"No, no," says Harry, smiling kind of knowingly. "Tell me."

"I may have, um," Louis starts, blushing, "come to a few, um, _conclusions_ during your season of X-Factor."

And with that, Harry's eyes widen comically and his face splits open as he bursts into laughter, doubling over. Louis rolls his eyes and laughs a little, too, really unsure where this is going.

"I'm sorry," Harry gasps. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise."

"Sure, sure," Louis grumbles. "Sure you're not."

"No, no, no," Harry says, still laughing. "I promise I'm not. I'm just imagining _you_ at sixteen and _me_ at fourteen or whatever and just. I was such an awkward little shit, mate, and, just. _You_."

"Me what?" Louis asks. "What does that even mean?"

Harry looks at him, eyes twinkling, and lets his gaze blatantly roam Louis's body. Louis blushes even more, if that's possible. 

"I just mean, like, it's hard for me to imagine what _you_ could have seen in _me_." Harry winks. 

Louis opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Like a bloody fish. "I–" he says, pathetically, before closing his mouth to restart. "Harry Styles, are you _hitting on sixteen-year-old me?_ " he says finally, incredulous. 

Harry just gives him another beaming grin and says, "Oh, look. The match is on."

Louis just shakes his head, face still burning. 

It ends up being 3-0 in United's favour, and Harry grumbles through making a proper English fry-up for breakfast, while Louis sits on the counter, recounting Rooney's hattrick play by play. 

After they eat, Harry walks Louis to his car and leans against it. "You're the worst," he says. "I have no idea why I let you into my home."

Louis grins. "Apparently because you want into my sixteen-year-old trousers."

Harry widens his eyes. "Your trousers are sixteen years old? That's... frankly disgusting."

Huffing a laugh, Louis unlocks his door. "Thanks for this. It was a lot of fun," he says.

"Yeah." Harry bites his lip and looks hesitant. "Yeah."

Louis raises his eyebrows expectantly.

Harry glances at his feet and then back up, before saying, "Would you, um. Like to go out for dinner sometime?"

Now Louis is the one to look down, studying his keys in his hand. "I–" he starts, and trails off. "I mean, _yes_ , Harry, of course, but," he scrunches his face up, frustrated, "it might not be the best idea?"

Harry kind of smiles ruefully. "No, I know. I was expecting you to say that. It's fine. But let's hang out, yeah? I'll suffer through some more United shitshows, even."

Louis grins. "That's _awful_ big of you, Mr. Styles."

Harry winks. "Drive safe. I'll see you soon."

*

Louis gets home to find Zayn awake, sprawled on the couch, smelling of weed and whiskey, watching Adventure Time. 

"Seriously," Louis says, kicking Zayn's thigh. "How old are you?"

Zayn groans. "Quiet, peasant. The king has a headache."

Louis snorts. "You live a rough life."

"I do," Zayn agrees. He cracks an eye open in Louis's direction. "So how'd your little date go?"

Louis blushes and bites his lip, before kicking off his shoes and curling up next to Zayn. "He asked me out."

Zayn smiles a little and punches Louis in the thigh. "I knew it. I _knew it_. You said yes, right? Liam's gonna owe me ten dollars."

"You _bet_ on this?" Louis asks. "You two are the worst. And no, I didn't say yes."

"Excuse me?" Zayn says. 

Louis sighs. "I _can't_ , Zayn. Like. It's not _forbidden_ or whatever, but it's severely frowned upon and I can't imagine what the board would say if they found out, you know? It'd maybe be different if I were straight, but."

Zayn frowns. "How, exactly, would that be different, Louis?"

"No, shut up, I mean. It would look different to them, you know? This kind of shit matters to their _image_ or what the fuck ever." Louis rubs his hands over his face. It's only nine in the morning and he's already knackered. 

"That's bullshit and you know it," Zayn says shortly.

"I'm not going to argue this, alright? I'm not saying it's fair or right, but it's how it is and I don't want to lose my job." 

Zayn looks at Louis and his face softens. "Okay, dude. Alright. I'm sorry, for what it's worth."

"Yeah," Louis says. "Yeah, me too."

Zayn sighs heavily and turns off the television. "I need some sleep."

Louis nods, unfolding himself from Zayn and standing up. 

Zayn holds out his hands for Louis to pull him up and says, "Want to come?"

"Depends on what you mean by that," Louis says, quirking an eyebrow.

Zayn rolls his eyes. "Come _sleep_ ," he clarifies.

"Yeah," Louis says softly. "Thanks, Zayner."

Zayn keeps ahold of Louis's hand and leads them back to his room, pulling them both under the covers. "It'll be okay, Lou," he says. 

"No, I know," Louis responds. "It just sucks sometimes."

"Yeah." Zayn wraps his arms around Louis's middle, spooning up around him, and rubs his hands over Louis's ribs. They fall asleep that way. 

*

September fades into October and the Pacific Northwest's personal brand of damp chill starts to set in as Louis gets to know his class and starts settling into a comfortable routine. He hangs out with Liam during lunch and recess in the teachers' lounge, he hangs out with Zayn in the evenings, and he falls into the habit of meeting up with Harry every weekend to watch the football. 

He comes back to the flat around lunchtime after spending the morning with Harry and he's a confusing mix of content, sad, frustrated, and giddy. 

Zayn always gives him this _look_. "Is it pathetic that we fuck each other when it's clear we'd both rather be fucking someone else?" Zayn finally says one Saturday afternoon, laying back on the couch with his jeans undone and his voice still rough.

Louis pauses in the middle of making a sandwich. "I – okay, wow, Zayner, don't hold back."

"No," Zayn sighs. "I mean, come on. This is sort of miserable, don't you think?"

Louis flinches. "Well, we can stop if you're _miserable_."

"I'm not talking about me, Lou," Zayn says. 

"I'm not miserable."

"Louis, come on. Just go out with him. Explain the situation, tell him you have to keep it super down-low, and just enjoy it for awhile." Zayn walks up behind Louis at the counter and wraps his arms around his stomach. 

Louis sighs. "No, it's fine. We're friends and it's good and there's nothing to worry about."

"Lou..." Zayn says, sighing again.

"Whatever," Louis snaps, turning around in Zayn's arms. "What about you, then, Mr. High and Mighty? Ask Liam out if you're pining so hard."

Zayn glances away. "I have."

"What?" Louis asks, shocked. "What? How did I not know about this."

Zayn shrugs. "It was around the time you first started seeing the popstar?"

" _What_?" Louis says again. 

Zayn pulls away and runs a hand through his hair. "He said no, anyway. So it's whatever."

"What."

"Louis. It's fine."

Louis tries to school his face into something other than pure confusion, but it doesn't work very well. "No, it's not. He _likes you_. It's like. No. Okay, no. He does. It's been said explicitly in his own words."

Zayn glances out the window above the sink. He shrugs. "Well. Then I don't know."

"What the _fuck_ ," Louis says. 

"Don't say anything to him, Lou," Zayn pleads. "It's not a big deal. It's fine."

Louis narrows his eyes, then visibly deflates. He turns back to his sandwich and chuckles ruefully. "We are kind of miserable, maybe."

Zayn leans back in and rests his chin on Louis's shoulder, rubbing his hands over Louis's sides. "Maybe. At least I've got you."

Louis snorts. "Don't try to flatter me after shoving me into a pit of depression, you monster."

Zayn laughs a little. "Sorry."

*

Louis lets it go for awhile, but he can't shake the feeling of _change_. He and Zayn are changing and it's not... good. They used to fuck for fun, to feel good, to take the edge off an exciting or stressful day. And now it's become a desperate thing, a sad sort of clinging onto affection, and it's not fun. It's rougher and harder and too regular for either of them. It's starting to feel cheap, and Louis knows he's not the only one feeling this way. He sees Zayn's sad expressions, after, when they're laying in bed, not speaking. He feels the resigned, apologetic drag of fingers across his cheekbones. It's not good. 

It's the first Monday in November. There are fifteen minutes before the first bell. Louis quickly walks down the hall to Liam's classroom. 

"Hey, could I have a word?" Louis says, uncharacteristically hesitant. 

Liam glances up. "Course, Lou, what'd'ya need?"

Louis pauses and licks his lips, toes the ground with his shoe. "I was just wondering, um. Why you won't go out with Zayn?"

Liam's eyebrows furrow. "Um..." he says, shuffling the papers on his desk. "It's not–? Like. I want to? But?"

Louis looks at him flatly. "But what?"

"It seems sort of – awkward?" Liam shrugs, looking nervous. 

"Because I live with him?" Louis asks. 

"No," Liam says. "Not really. Just. Like. I know how you two are and I don't really want to, like, get in the middle of that?"

Louis blinks. "I... what do you mean?"

Liam looks down at his hands. "Louis, come on. I'm not stupid."

"But, Liam," Louis says, "it's really not like that. It's really, really, really not like that. It's just, like. We're not like that."

Liam smiles kind of wryly. "But it _is_ like that, Louis, whatever that means. I really like him, but I'm not going to be your competition when it matters, Lou, okay?"

Louis scrapes his fingers through his hair. "Liam – fuck, I have to go in a second, but seriously. We fuck cos we're lonely, okay? That's literally it. It's not because we've got unresolved _whatever_. We fuck 'cos he likes you and you shot him down and I'm just. There. And just as lonely. Okay? So if I'm the only thing that's stopping this, then please, please reconsider. He's _sad_."

Liam exhales heavily and looks up at Louis with wide eyes. "Lou..." he says.

"I have to go," Louis responds quickly. "But. Just. Think about it, okay?"

Liam nods and Louis gives him a tight smile back, before backing out of his room to his own classroom. 

As he walks in, he sees two heads of dark curly hair poking out from behind his desk, along with muffled _shhh_ sounds. 

Louis tries in vain to hide the laughter in his voice as he says loudly into the _apparently_ empty room, "Gosh, I am just _so excited_ to sit down at my desk."

There's a muffled giggle, now. 

Exaggerating his footsteps as loud as he can, Louis walks slowly toward his desk. 

"SURPRISE!!!" Jakob screams as he gets closer, popping up from behind his chair. 

Louis grabs at his chest and staggers back. "Oh my goodness, what is this?" he exclaims. 

Harry pops up, now, grinning and grabbing Jakob into a headlock. "Jake," Harry stage-whispers, "I think we've given Mr. Tomlinson a heart attack."

Jake giggles uncontrollably, before gasping, "Oh no! Don't die, Mr. Tomlinson. My daddy would be sad!" 

Louis bites at his cheek to stop a smile spreading across his face. "I'll try not to, buddy. Did you guys have a good weekend?"

Jake nods quickly, exploding into an involved story involving his mum and their new puppy and his grandpa getting his shoes eaten. Harry widens his eyes and jerks his head at his son, exasperated, motioning to Louis that he's heard the story about six hundred times. 

Louis hides his grin and oohs and ahhs at all the right moments in Jake's story. "That's hilarious, dude," he says. "Maybe you can tell the class during Sharing, what do you think?"

Jake's expression lights up. "Yes! I brought a picture of him, too! His name's Focus! Isn't he cute!?" He runs over to Louis, pulling a printed photo out of his pocket. 

Ruffling Jake's hair, Louis agrees, "Yeah, Jake, he's cute. Go ahead and grab your seat, okay? Everyone's gonna start showing up soon."

Jake runs off to his desk, pulling a big book of dinosaurs out of his backpack. 

Louis strolls over closer to his desk, to Harry. Harry grins down at him. "He's gonna be kind of off the walls today," Harry says. 

" _Today_?" Louis asks, arching an eyebrow. "Have you ever met your son?"

Harry laughs, ducking his head to peer up at Louis through his fringe. "Fair enough."

Louis shakes his head with a smile. "So, parent-teacher conferences are coming up," he says. 

"Should I be worried?" Harry asks, grinning. 

"No, no," Louis says, elbowing Harry in the ribs. "We haven't posted the schedule yet, but. Yours is next Monday."

Harry nods, then pauses, eyebrows coming together. "Shit – ah, sorry, I mean, shoot. But, um, Kristin's going to be out of town on Monday. Should I reschedule, or is just me okay, or...?"

"Oh," Louis says. "I mean, that's up to you two. Talk to her about it. Rescheduling shouldn't be a problem, but – full disclosure – there's not going to be anything earth-shattering to talk about. You've got a good kid."

Harry's lips curl up into a small, private smile. "Yeah. Okay. I'll let you know. And, you know. Thanks," he says. 

Louis bites his lip and feels his cheeks heat up. "Of course."

*

The next day, Liam shows up to Louis's classroom before the bell. He stands in the doorway, looking nervous. Louis feels his face soften.

"Li," he says.

Liam shakes his head. "No, I just wanted – I'm sorry. About yesterday. And Zayn. Maybe... Maybe we can all get drinks on Friday? You, me, Zayn, and... maybe Harry? If you wanted?"

Louis smiles a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be good. I'll talk to Zayn."

"And Harry," Liam supplies, giving Louis a look.

Louis bites his lip. "Liam..."

"Come on, Louis. You deserve this, okay?"

Louis shakes his head slightly, not disagreeing, but not agreeing. "I'll ask Harry _as friends_ , yeah?"

Liam just looks at him kind of sadly, but nods all the same, and ducks out just as the bell goes. 

When Louis gets home that afternoon, Zayn's in the kitchen talking loudly on his mobile. 

"I'm _fine_ , Mom. No – stop it." He's leaning against the fridge, staring at the ceiling in frustration. 

Louis pinches his side and Zayn jumps, before rolling his eyes, pulling a face and gesturing to the phone. Louis grins. 

"No, Mom, ugh. I have enough money, yes. Jesus. Sorry. Okay. Louis just walked in, here, say hi, I know you love him better anyway."

Louis scoffs, but takes the phone. "Hi, Mrs. Malik," he says, listening to her explode in his ear with concerns over Zayn. "Yes, ma'am. I'll make sure. Yes. Okay. No problem. Yes. Love you, too. Have a good evening. Say hi to the girls. Okay. Yes. Goodbye. He loves you."

Zayn groans as Louis hangs up. "God," he says. "She thinks I'm, like, starving and naked on the street or something."

Louis flicks him on the rib. "Well. You are mostly naked in my kitchen, for what it's worth."

"Whatever," Zayn says, opening the fridge and pulling out two beers. "How was your day?"

"Fine," Louis says. "So, hey, Liam wants to go out for drinks with us on Friday."

Zayn pauses, then straightens up. "Does he."

"Yeah. Zayn. Look, I think he knows he made a mistake, okay? So just. Let's see what happens, okay?"

Zayn purses his lips. "Fine. Whatever. You should invite your popstar."

Louis pulls a face. "I feel like I'm tied to a tree in a witch-hunt, honestly."

"Text him right now, Lou."

Louis sighs and pulls out his phone. "What do I even say?"

Zayn levels him a _you're a fucking idiot_ look. "Say, hey, mate, my friends and I are going out for drinks on Friday, you should come."

"Oh." Louis blinks. "Yeah, I can do that." He types quickly into his phone. 

Zayn ruffles his hair. "I recorded Champions League for you."

Louis raises his eyebrows and wraps Zayn in a crushing hug. "I knew I loved you for a reason."

"Whatever," Zayn grumbles. "Barcelona beat a team from Hungary in a shocking upset."

Louis laughs. "Fuck you. Wanna watch?"

"Yeah," Zayn sighs, wrapping his arms around Louis. They cuddle together on the couch and at the twenty-first minute, Zayn sighs again. 

"Thanks, by the way," he says.

"For what?" Louis asks distractedly. 

"I know you must have talked to Liam."

Louis smiles kind of sadly and curls into Zayn more. "You deserve it, you know," he says, echoing the sentiment he's heard a few too many times. 

Zayn just rubs his back and Louis's phone buzzes in the crease of the couch.

_sounds brill, can't wait x_

*

Friday afternoon, Liam and Louis agree to meet at the Hopvine Pub on Capitol Hill at eight, and Louis rushes home as soon as his kids are all accounted for, texting Harry the time and place. 

"Zayn," he yells as he bursts into the flat. "Zayn!" 

"What?" comes a muffled yell from the other bedroom. Louis opens the door. 

"What do I wear?" they say at the exact same time. 

They stare at each other, before bursting into laughter. 

"I hate us," Louis says, still laughing. 

"Oh, me too," Zayn says back. "You should wear your dark maroon pants. The tight ones. Your ass-jeans."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Fine, okay, you should wear your black trousers with, ummm, that one button-up you never wear."

"I'm not wearing a fucking button-up, you asshole," Zayn snaps. 

"Zayn," Louis says. "It's _Liam_. He's going to be wearing a fucking sweater-vest for all we know."

Zayn sighs. "Fine. Fine. But I'm not buttoning it all the way to the neck. You should wear that one white shirt. The Shirt of Death."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Louis says primly. 

"Yes, you fucking do. The shirt that gets you laid. The collarbone shirt," Zayn says. 

Louis rolls his eyes. "We're going to look like proper sluts."

Zayn just winks. "Throwback to college, yeah?"

"Shut up."

*

Liam and Harry are already at the pub when Zayn and Louis get there. They wave them over and push two pints at them. 

"Hey," Louis says, sliding into the booth next to Harry. "Sorry we're..." he glances at his phone, "...right on time, you twats."

Liam and Harry smirk. 

Zayn rolls his eyes. "So," he says to Harry. "You must be the popstar I've heard all about. I'm Zayn, Lou's roommate."

Harry extends his hand over the table. "Yeah," he says, chuckling a little, embarrassed. "I guess I am. You can call me Harry, though."

"Right," Zayn says. "So what do you do now, Harry?"

Harry takes a long drink of his beer. "I mostly do some producing for Sub Pop up here. I do some stuff down in LA, too. But, yeah, mostly some stuff for smaller labels up here. Nothing major."

Zayn nods. "Who have you worked with? I DJ down at the Crocodile."

"Oh, cool!" Harry says, eyebrows raising excitedly. Louis and Liam exchange a look. "I've worked with Beach House, Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses, Rogue Wave, The Head and the Heart, and Ugly Casanova a bit."

Zayn leans in, interested now, and Harry and Zayn start talking music intensely on their side of the table. 

"So," Louis says to Liam. 

Liam grins. "Well."

Louis laughs a little. "Ready for conferences?"

"Yeah," Liam says, "I've got that girl, Rebecca, you know? I'm sure you've heard of her, anyway, she–"

Louis cuts him off. "Okay, nope, sorry. We're not doing this on Friday night. Nope." He kicks Zayn's ankle and elbows Harry.

"You two need to talk to us because I refuse to talk about work," Louis says loudly to them. "God, how old are we?"

Harry laughs and slings his arm over the back of the booth, scooting closer to Louis. "Alright, love, how was your day?"

Louis rolls his eyes, and lets the conversation flow between the four of them. He keeps an eye on Liam and Zayn as their heads get closer and closer as they down more and more pints. He ignores the fact the same thing is happening to him and Harry. 

Around eleven, Liam claims exhaustion and Louis agrees. Zayn sighs and shakes his head, but slides out of the booth all the same. They walk out of the club in pairs and Liam tugs Zayn off to the side into the darkness. 

Harry turns to look at Louis, leaning up against the side of the building. 

"This was fun," Harry says, smiling. 

Louis nods, biting his lip, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes. 

Harry glances down the street quickly, before turning back. "Can I... I mean. I don't want to, like, cross any lines here. But I'd really like to kiss you, Louis."

Louis smiles and loves the way the lights of the streetlamps cast a glow around Harry's head, how his face is in shadows but his smile is still shining. "Yeah. Yeah, Harry, me too." He reaches up and tugs a little on Harry's hair before letting his hands settle on Harry's neck. 

Harry's own hands close around Louis's hips and he ducks down, pressing his lips quickly to Louis's. 

"Okay?" Harry asks.

Louis just nods, and tugs him in again. Harry steps closer, pushing him farther against the brick of the building, deepening the kiss, parting their lips and pressing their bodies together. 

After a couple of minutes, Louis hears a distinct cough from somewhere behind Harry. He pushes lightly on Harry's shoulder and peers around, seeing Zayn standing alone, arching an eyebrow in their direction. 

"I'm about to head home, Lou. Sorry to interrupt, but do you want a ride?" Zayn says. 

Louis sighs and slumps back against the wall. "Yeah, Zayner. Thanks." He looks back at Harry. "I should go," he says softly, carding his fingers through Harry's fringe.

"Yeah," Harry whispers, still staring down at Louis's lips. 

Louis smiles. " _Really_ ," he says. 

"Yeah," Harry says again. "You should really go."

Louis shakes his head. "I'll see you Monday. For the conference."

"Right." Harry's still staring down at him. "Right. Yes. Great. Brilliant. See you Monday." He pulls back, letting Louis straighten up and slide past him to get to Zayn. 

Louis glances back, once, and Harry's still standing there, watching them leave.

Once he and Zayn are in the car, Louis sighs and runs a hand through his hair. 

"So," Zayn says. "So much for standing strong, and all."

"I know," Louis says quietly. "Shit."

"No," Zayn says, stopping jerkily at a red light. "No, I mean. Fuck. Louis, come on. You need this. You _want_ this. It's good. You're hurting absolutely no one, okay? If you think it's really that big of a deal to the school, just keep it quiet for awhile and if it's still there by June, his kid won't be in your class anymore, right?"

"But.. it's a conflict of interest, isn't it?" Louis wonders. 

Zayn snorts. "It's already a conflict of interest. Whether you resist or not."

"Yeah." Louis stares out the window at the city passing by. "Yeah, okay. You're right. I know you're right."

*

By the time Harry's conference comes around, it's early evening and the sky is darkening against the yellowing leaves and Louis's head is _killing him_.

There's a quiet knock on the door and Louis pulls his head up from his hands. 

"Harry," he says, smiling shyly. 

"Hey," Harry says, smiling back. 

"So, um." Louis fumbles with the papers on his desk. "Have a seat, please."

Harry sits down across the desk and folds his hands in front of him, looking carefully professional. Louis can't hide his smirk and Harry's expression folds into a cheeky grin. 

"So tell me about Jake," Harry prompts, still grinning. 

Louis laughs lightly. "Okay, well, he's great. A lot of fun. Really energetic. Hasn't really got a whole lot of patience for the actual learning part of school, but he's also five years old, so that's normal. He's doing brilliantly socially and I know he's dying for a playdate with Laura," Louis says, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry laughs. "Yeah, believe me, I've heard that one."

Louis shakes his head, smiling. "Yeah. Otherwise, I don't know. Maybe you and Kristin should start working on his handwriting at home? But his spelling and grasp of letters is coming along smoothly. He's definitely got a math-brain, as well. Catches on really quickly."

"Yeah," Harry says. "It's ridiculous. He's gonna be better than me by third grade. Not that that's saying much, honestly."

"So, yeah, you've really got nothing to worry about. He's a great kid, very sharp. Hilarious. He's doing really well," Louis says. 

Harry nods. "Great. That's so good to hear. It's been kind of a rollercoaster, honestly, you know? Because five years ago it was like, boom, I've got a son in a whole different country. And so everything's been kind of trial-and-error, you know? A lot of adjustments for everyone. But I'm glad to hear he's doing well. Everything's coming together nicely."

Louis smiles down at his desk. "Yeah. Yeah, it seems that way. You two have done a great job. He's so well-adjusted, considering, you know."

Harry nods. "Yeah, I'm so relieved. I've done what I can, but there's still that fear, you know?"

"Yeah," Louis agrees. "Yeah, I can't imagine."

They're quiet for a moment. 

Then, Harry says, hesitantly, "Louis?"

Louis swallows and looks up into Harry's eyes. 

"I know, like, you already said no once, and I don't want to, like, annoy you. But. Would you like to get dinner with me?"

Louis reaches across the desk and tugs at one of Harry's curls. "Now?"

Harry's eyes widen and he starts to smile slowly. "I mean. If that works for you, sure."

"Sounds great," Louis says honestly. "Really."

Harry stands up, then, and rubs his hands on the side of his trousers. "Brilliant. Um. So."

Louis feels his eyes crinkle into a smile. "How does pizza sound?"

Harry laughs. "Perfect." He holds out his hand and Louis squeezes it once, then drops it. 

"We can't... here," Louis says, glancing down apologetically.

Harry pauses, then nods seriously. "No, Louis, that's fine. I get that, believe me."

They walk out the door of the classroom and Harry says, loudly, "Thank you so much, Mr. Tomlinson. You won't believe how much Jake raves about you. It was great to talk to you."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Shut up, idiot. Let's just go."

*

The next week, Liam and Louis are having lunch together in their corner of the teachers' lounge. 

"So. You and Zayn," Louis says, waggling his eyebrows. 

Liam blushes. "Yeah. No. It's good. Thank you."

"Whatever," Louis says. "I'm just happy for you both."

Liam's expression turns serious. "And you, Lou. I mean. I'm happy for you."

Louis shrugs. "Yeah. I mean. It's all new. Let's just. Whatever. 

"Yeah," Liam says. "So, wait, how's the sex?"

Louis drops his sandwich. " _Liam Payne_!" he exclaims. "Are you serious?"

Liam laughs. "Come on, he's a popstar! Is it different?"

"You mean, does he burst into song mid-orgasm?" Louis asks dryly. "I could ask the same about Zayn."

Liam arches an eyebrow. Louis blushes. 

"I mean," Louis starts, flustered.

"Let's just... change the subject," Liam says, laughing a little. 

"Actually, Li, by the transitive property, you and I have basically fucked," Louis says. "But not really, and now I'm feeling left out. How bout it? I'm sure there's a supply closet we could find. A quickie before class?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Tommo."

*

Two nights before winter break starts, Louis finds himself pressed deep into Harry's quicksand couch. 

Harry leans over him, hair tickling at Louis's nose as Harry works his mouth up and down Louis's neck. 

"What are you doing for your two weeks off?" Harry murmurs into Louis's skin. 

Louis runs his hands over Harry's back. "I'm going home for a week, actually."

"Home-home?" Harry asks. "Yorkshire?"

Louis nods, tugging Harry's face up to his own so their lips can meet. "What about you?"

Harry makes a small non-committal noise against Louis's lips. "Have to be in LA for a bit," he says. "Might have to go to London, but I don't know yet."

Louis nods. "Let me know if you do."

Harry doesn't answer, just lets his hands drift down to the fly of Louis's trousers, tugging first the zip, then the rest of the trousers down Louis's thighs, letting Louis kick them off his ankles and pull down Harry's own trousers. 

"I might get lost in this fucking couch," Louis pants. 

Harry smirks. "I'll save you," he says, slicking up his fingers and leaning back in for a deep kiss. 

Afterwards, when they're still sweaty and sticky and breathless, Harry curls around Louis, pulling him in for another quick press of lips. "You're amazing," he says.

Louis laughs. "Means a little less after you've just fucked me, love."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I mean it. Thanks for... compromising your morals, I guess."

Louis turns to face him, so their chests are pressed together. "They were compromised as soon as I met you, Haz. Resistance was futile," he says in a deep announcer voice.

Harry laughs, wrapping his arms around Louis's body to slide up and down his back. "I have been told I'm irresistible."

"By TigerBeat?" Louis arches an eyebrow. 

Harry looks mock-concerned. "Do they not count? Fuck. There goes my self-esteem."

Eventually Louis has to pull himself out of Harry's arms, out of the sandtrap couch, and slide back into his clothing. Harry stands up, too, and walks him out to his car in a situation that is eerily parallel to the first time they hung out. 

Harry leans against his car door. "Seriously, though. I really like you, Louis. Like. A lot."

Louis gives him a questioning look. "Oh-kay," he says slowly. "Are we fourteen? Are you going to ask me to the dance?"

Harry looks exasperated. "I'm trying to be serious! About my feelings! And shit!"

"Okay, okay," Louis says, rubbing his hand over Harry's ribs. "I really like you too." He bites his lip. "Like, a lot."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Okay. Well. Good. If I don't see you over the break... well. Just give me a call when you get back, okay? Or... whatever."

"Okay," Louis says again. "Are you alright? You're being kind of strange."

Harry shakes his head, hair flopping around. "No, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just. Glad I met you. And I hope you have a great Christmas. And birthday. And I'll text you. And have a great time with your family. And. Just. Yeah." He tugs Louis into his body by Louis's wrist and kisses him one more time, letting his hand drift down to cup Louis's arse. Louis grins against his lips, before pulling back.

"Cheeky," he says fondly. Harry winks. 

Louis shakes his head, smiling. He unlocks his car and opens the door. "I'll talk to you soon, okay? Have a great holiday. I'll miss you."

"You, too," Harry says, biting his lip. "Bye."

"Bye," Louis says, reluctant to leave. 

Harry pulls a face, realising. "Look at us. Christ."

Louis laughs. "I know, god. I'm embarrassed."

"Get out of here, you," Harry says. 

Louis leans back up for one last kiss, then slams his door finally, driving away. 

*

"So, things are going well with the popstar?" Zayn asks, flopping belly first onto Louis's bed on the morning of the 23rd as Louis is packing to go home. 

Louis rolls his eyes. "He does have a name. A name that you _know_ ," he says.

"Whatever," Zayn says. "It's all good, right?"

"Yeah," Louis says, smiling to himself. "Yeah, no, it is. He's lovely."

Zayn nods. "Good. You've seemed happier."

Louis pulls a face. "Let's not get all sappy. Even though you're all of the sudden Mr. Christmas Spirit, jesus. Liam has really done a number on you."

Zayn laughs. "I know, what has happened to us? We've gotten boyfriends and gone all soft, haven't we?"

"Oi! Speak for yourself," Louis says. "I'm still wonderfully cynical, thank you."

"You wish," Zayn says, smirking. "I've seen you smiling into the distance for no reason. You can't hide from me."

"I have absolutely never done that," Louis protests. 

"Uh huh," Zayn sounds. "Sure."

"Ugh, whatever," Louis says. "Will you drive me to the airport in an hour?"

"Yeah," Zayn says, leaning over to mess up Louis's hair. "Yeah. But let's just be happy for now, okay? Why bother pretending otherwise. Your birthday's tomorrow, Christmas after that, you're seeing your family, you've got a great boyfriend, a good job. Things are good, yeah?"

Louis sighs and leans into Zayn's hand, still stroking through his fringe. "Yeah, fine, you win. I'm happy."

Zayn presses a smacking kiss to the top of his head, before crowing, "I knew it!"

*

Louis spends his birthday and Christmas being doted on by his mother and chasing his sisters around the house, teasing them about their boyfriends they blush over incessantly. They go ice-skating and go out for cocoa and Louis can't stop smiling because Zayn's right: his life is amazing and he's with his family and everything is going _so well_. He wants to pinch himself. 

"Daze," he leans over the couch to nudge his sister, who's sitting on the floor. "Daisy. Pinch me."

Daisy looks up at him and wrinkles her nose. "Why?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "Fine, missed your chance."

"No!" Daisy yells, jumping up and leaping on Louis's stomach, pinching him anywhere she can. 

"Okay! Okay!" Louis gasps after some light roughhousing. "You win!"

Daisy grins, showing all of her teeth. "Music?" she asks. 

"Yeah, let's see what's up on Radio 1," Louis says. "Haven't done that in awhile."

Daisy flips on the radio to the tail end of a Lady GaGa song and Louis rolls his eyes. "Maybe nothing's different over in the colonies," he says dryly. 

The announcer's voice comes in over the fade-out, "Up next, our own Harry Styles is back with a new single for the first time in six years! It's called 'Seven Circles' and here it is. Enjoy."

Louis freezes, staring at the radio as if it could explain further. 

"Lou?" Lottie says from the other side of the couch, behind her laptop. 

Louis blinks. "Yeah?"

"Alright?" she asks. "You look like your heart's stopped."

Louis laughs a little. "No, no, no. You'll just never believe this, but I know Harry Styles."

"What!" Lottie exclaims. "No way. Didn't you wank over him for about five years when you were a kid?"

Louis pulls a face. "Christ, Lottie."

"Sorry," she says, rolling her eyes. "But seriously."

Louis shakes his head. "Whatever. Anyway, yeah, he's got a kid in my class."

"What the _hell_!" Lottie says. "That's insane. Does he know you're the ultimate Harry Styles fanboy?"

"Ugh, you're awful," Louis says. "Now, shut up. I want to listen."

It's not bad. It's different. It's slower, more heartfelt. Older. Louis feels his chest ache. Harry never mentioned this. Dropping a single is a _big deal_ , especially when it's a comeback single, and he never mentioned it. 

Louis digs around his bag for his phone, switching it on and ignoring the buzzing warnings about international charges. He quickly texts Harry. 

_heard the song. really good, haz. hope all is well x_

Louis doesn't hear back. 

*

He doesn't hear from Harry all break, actually. Louis calls when he gets back to his flat and leaves a message, but Harry never calls or texts back.

Zayn shrugs, looking worried. "He's probably busy with publicity stuff, you know? I wouldn't worry."

Louis wants to point out that Zayn's tensed jaw belies that statement, but he just nods instead. "It's weird he didn't tell me, isn't it? Or am I overreacting?"

Zayn hesitates. "I... don't know?" he says slowly, glancing at Louis.

Louis bites his lip. "Yeah. Me either. Whatever." He shakes his head, trying to clear it. "How's Liam doing?"

Zayn smiles softly. "He's good. He stayed here for Christmas, didn't go home. So, we had a nice time."

Louis smiles wickedly. "I just bet."

Zayn gives him a slap on the back of his head. "Whatever."

Louis rests his head on Zayn shoulder as they stare at the television, playing some shitty cop drama. "Should I be worried, Zayner?"

Zayn sighs. "I hope not."

But when Louis gets to school on Monday morning, the parking lot is filled with paparazzi, snapping blinding flashes of anything that dares move in their peripheral vision. 

"Hey! Hey!" middle age men with cameras yell at Louis. "Do you know the Styles family? Are you a teacher?"

Louis hurries into the building and dashes into Liam's classroom. 

"Jesus fuck," he says. "What the hell is going on?"

Liam looks up at him. "I was going to ask _you_! Apparently Harry's a celebrity again." 

Louis glances down at his feet. "Yeah. Apparently."

Liam furrows his brow. "Didn't you... know?"

Louis shrugs. "Not until I heard his song on the radio. And that's quite literally the last time I heard his voice, also."

Liam's eyes widen. "Oh. Oh, Louis. Um."

"Whatever," Louis says, waving off Liam's concern. He's got enough of that. "I'll see you at lunch, yeah?"

Liam nods slowly, watching Louis walk back to his own classroom. 

The morning is weirdly tense as the kids start trickling in. All of the parents are accompanying them – moreso than usual – and there's a nervous quiet to all of them, the initial excitement from all the cameras and flashing lights fading into a questioning sort of lack of understanding. Louis's gut clenches as the seconds tick closer to nine am and Jakob still hasn't shown up. 

Then, suddenly, just as the bell rings, Jakob comes dashing in, followed by both Harry and Kristin. Who are holding hands. 

Louis glances down to their hands, glances up at Harry, and glances away. "Hey, guys. Jake, go ahead and find your seat and we're going to start."

Harry looks at him pleadingly as he turns to go, but Louis turns to the whiteboard, writing in clear capital letters: What Did You Do Over Winter Break? and inviting everyone to raise their hands and share. He does not look at Harry. 

*

After school, Louis ducks through the hoards of cameras once more and gets home to find Zayn in bed. He curls in next to him. Zayn turns over and wraps his arm around Louis's middle.

"I'm upset you have a boyfriend," Louis grumbles, "because I need a fuck."

Zayn makes a noise in the back of his throat. "What happened?"

"I don't know. Harry and Jake's mum, Kristin, came in holding hands. And I googled at lunch because I couldn't help it. Apparently they're a couple suddenly?"

"Hey," Zayn says, brushing Louis's hair off his forehead. "Hey, come on. It's probably just for appearances. Because of the kid and all."

"Yeah," Louis sighs. "But still. I haven't heard from him since before I left, you know? It's shitty regardless."

Zayn keeps stroking his hair. "No, babe, I agree."

Louis breathes out slowly and folds himself into Zayn. "Can we cuddle, at least?"

"As if I'd say no to you, Lou," Zayn says quietly.

Louis closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep, focusing only on Zayn's soft breath in his hair. 

He wakes up two hours later to the insistent buzzing of his mobile in his pocket. 

It's Harry. Louis's breath catches and he looks over at Zayn, still sleeping. He slips out of bed and stumbles into the living room. 

"Hello," he says.

"Lou," Harry says. "Lou, hey."

Louis stares at the carpet, digging his socked toes in as far as he can. "Yeah?" he says. 

Harry sighs and Louis can picture him pacing around his kitchen. It doesn't make him feel better. 

"I'm so sorry, first of all, for not telling you. About the single. I realised later that maybe came as a bit of a shock?"

Louis snorts. "A bit."

"Yeah," Harry says. "Fuck. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that to you. To make you think I kept it from you or something. It's just been in the works for a long time. Long before I met you, you know? So it never really became a _thing_ that I realised was necessary to tell you. Which was a huge oversight. And I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Louis says. "No, it's fine. It's a good song. Congratulations. Number one in the UK."

"Right." Harry lets out a long breath. "Right."

Louis cracks his knuckles against his thigh. "Look, Harry, it's fine, okay? It's all fine. I won't, like, say anything to anyone, of course. I won't cause any problems for you."

" _No_ , Louis," Harry says sharply. "That's not – no. I just. Look, my publicist is really pushing the family unit thing, but. No, okay, that's not what I want."

"Harry," Louis says. "It's fine."

"Louis," Harry says pleadingly. "We're not gonna go along with it, okay? Kristin has a boyfriend and... so do I, okay? And obviously I'm not going to say anything about you, because that would look bad for both of us, you know, dating my son's teacher, but. I have a boyfriend, okay?"

Louis sighs. "Harry, come on. This might be more trouble than it's worth."

Harry's silent for a moment. "Is that – is that what you think?" he says softly. 

Louis plays with the fraying ends of his trousers at his heel. "I... don't know," he says back, just as softly. "You didn't talk to me for two weeks."

"Lou..." Harry whispers. "Fuck. Can I see you? Can I come over?"

Louis bites his lip. "Will you be followed?"

"I'll make sure I'm not," Harry promises. "I'll be there in a half an hour."

"Yeah, okay," Louis says. "Okay."

*

Louis pulls open the door as soon as Harry knocks. He holds it open, but Harry just stands there, looking at him nervously. 

"Come in," Louis says, sighing minutely. 

Harry follows Louis into the kitchen, where Louis pulls out two beers, taking a long pull of one. Harry just holds his. 

"Louis, look. I'm so sorry about the past few weeks. I never meant to ignore you or anything. It's been absolutely fucking crazy. I've been flying all over the damn world to deal with this bullshit and I just. I never meant to let you, like, slip through. It just got so crazy and I know how it looks, right, me not speaking to you and showing up with a _girlfriend_ or whatever you've heard..." Harry trails off, staring down at his unopened beer. 

Louis stares into space across the room. He says, "I really like you, but I don't really know what to do with..." Louis waves his hand around, as if that could symbolise _celebrity_. 

Harry nods. "I know. I don't want to, like, pressure you into anything. You can tell me to go and I will. But I really just. I'm just crazy about you, you know? That's what it comes down to, for me."

Louis exhales. "How are we gonna do this? We've got shit on both ends, you know? I know what it'll look like to the school if I date a parent – a male parent – much less the token _famous_ male parent, and you've got... whatever you've got. How is this gonna work?"

Harry looks hesitant again, but he overcomes it and moves closer to Louis, tilting his chin up and pressing a quick kiss to Louis's pursed lips. 

"I can't, like, make any promises that it won't blow up on us, you know? Because it could. I'm gonna be, like, watched for awhile. Not forever, though. Just until something more interesting happens. But. I don't know about you, but. I really do think it's worth it."

Louis looks up into Harry's eyes, sees total, intense earnestness. He feels himself nodding slowly. 

"I – okay. Yeah. Okay." He smiles a little sheepishly. "I'm kind of crazy about you, too."

Harry lights up, smile spreading across his face. He starts to lean in again, but Louis stops him with a light hand on his shoulder. 

"But, look, Harry. I'm gonna need to know about this kind of stuff. You can't just... drop something like this on me every few months, okay? Albums, tours, whatever, okay? You need to talk to me. This isn't gonna work at all if you don't talk to me."

Harry nods seriously. "I will. I promise. This was like. Everything happened so fast and I wasn't sure where we stood and I just. I promise."

"Okay," Louis says. "Okay." He slides his hands up and over Harry's shoulders, clasping them at the back of his neck, touching their foreheads together. "Okay. We'll do this. It's gonna be weird."

Harry laughs softly. "Yeah, well. You're way out of my league, anyway."

Louis snorts. "I wish I could time travel back to when I was sixteen, to be honest."

Harry narrows his eyes wickedly. "Mmm, me too."

"Shut up!" Louis exclaims, pinching the back of Harry's neck.

Harry chuckles, before becoming serious again. "Can I tell Jake? I think he'd be excited. He loves you. And he knows that I... really like you, too."

Louis bites his lip to hide his smile. "Yeah, okay. Make sure he knows he can't tell any of his friends, though."

Harry nods, smiling fully again, and nudges Louis's nose with his own, catching their lips lightly in a kiss. 

After a few minutes, Louis hears Zayn's bedroom door open and a rough voice comes from the doorway, saying, "Oh, good. Shall I call the Mail, then?"

Louis lifts a hand from Harry's back, and flips Zayn off. Harry just laughs a little, burying his face in Louis's neck, pressing small kisses along the line of his throat. 

"Want to give me the grand tour?" Harry mutters into Louis's skin.

"Yeah," Louis says. "We'll start with the bedroom, I think."


End file.
